


A Boy and His Trident

by pewpewdragons (Nyoona)



Series: Pergamon Guard [2]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen, I Don't Even Know, but then he finds a new friend, the dude has been cursed and he's pissed off about it?, who can blame him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 16:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10745586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyoona/pseuds/pewpewdragons
Summary: Orestes has slowly been putting his life back together after he was cursed to a form of Tundra. But there is one aspect that he just cannot seem to get back.





	A Boy and His Trident

**Author's Note:**

> Some things one might want to know before reading:  
> Meihin = gijinka/humanoid form of a dragon. Due to vast size differences of the dragon breeds gijinkas exist in my lore but I sure as hell aren't going to make them call each other that. So the form is known as _meihin_ in my lore. Also, there is a lot of shit involved since my boy's meihin is what you would call [feral](http://ljoonika.tumblr.com/meihin).  
>  Orestes wasn't turned to Tundra with breed change magic, but sacrifice magic, which means that the dragon who cursed him gave up something valuable to make sure he stayed that way.  
> [Also, my Tumblr tag for the boy.](http://ljoonika.tumblr.com/tagged/dragon%3A-orestes) In case you get curious *eyebrow waggle*

Orestes was at the practice field, flying over high targets on poles at the far end of the field, swooping down to slice them with a sword. The Tundra was trying to smoothen the transition of changing the sword from left to right hand, or to his mouth mid-flight, but it wasn’t going well. He was getting frustrated and the more frustrated he felt, the worse he did with his exercise, having to land multiple times to pick up the sword after dropping it.

It had been over a year now since that day when he woke up and found himself changed. He had nearly gotten used to his altered appearance by now. His life was also more or less back to what it was before. Well, almost. He had no more lovers, really. They hadn’t taken his downgrade to an uglier form that well. But he had patrons, those who seeked him out specifically for what had happened to him. It was all the same to him. The less emotions involved the better. He had always been good at making the best of the situation he was in and this was the best right now. He would reassess again after he had managed to get this curse broken, but this is what he had right now.

But some things were just too different. He wasn’t able to fight like he used to. No matter how hard he tried, his new form was just too different, less agile, less dextrous, smaller— And quadrupedal! He couldn’t even fight with a sword while on ground. He couldn’t get back to where he had been. He was here, in the practice field almost every day, trying and trying, but he was losing his will to continue. What was the point? He couldn’t improve something inherently inferior.

He went to the weapons rack to change his sword to another one, to another type. It didn’t really matter. Lighter ones were easier for him to handle but the difference in skill was inconsequential compared to the difference to what he had been. He didn’t much like swords anymore. Instead he was somehow drawn to the other types of armament, heavier ones. There was one heavy weapon there that he had been eyeing for some time now. It was a trident. It had sharp triple blades on top of a long pole and it seemed to call to him every time he walked past it. The whole idea was ridiculous of course. Tundra paws and pole weapons didn’t work together.

_Unless—_

He left the thought hanging in the air, hesitant to reach the inevitable conclusion. He needed more dextrous hands. It was the only way. And there was really only one way for him to do that. It was against one of the very core rules of the Guard. Heck, it went against most of the society around him. The whole idea was preposterous. Orestes kept digging his claws to the sand in frustration as the weapon kept enticing him.

“Damn the rules!” he finally roared.

He did a quick check to make sure no one was around anymore. Adhara probably wouldn’t care but he couldn’t be too careful. Who he was most worried about was Toma. The Nocturne was a strict rule follower and would get him discharged from the Guard for the violation. Once convinced that he was indeed alone he focused, flickering to his meihin form. His deeply rooted disgust with his new meihin usually made the the transition awkward but now he was actually a bit excited, for the first time in a long while, and the change was easy.

He examined his altered hands. They were rough compared to his earlier Skydancer meihin hands. His fingers were thicker and shorter. He himself was thicker and shorter. And hairy. So were his hands, except for the palms and the pads of the fingers. He could grip and hold things. These hands could hold a heavier weapon. Satisfied with this conclusion he turned to face the trident.

The metal of the blades shone almost blue. The weapon looked both beautiful and dangerous. Orestes noticed his palms getting sweaty as he reached for the trident with a trembling hand. The pole was made of unusual white wood and he could have sworn it felt warm to the touch. _Probably a pain to keep clean_ , he thought. He closed his fingers around the pole and lifted the weapon out of the rack. It really was heavy. He hadn’t practiced with any kind of pole weapon or spear in some years but he could tell it was well balanced. The counter weight at the other end made the weapon easy to point and hold in any direction.

He took a few practice swings and then headed for the open part of the field. First he needed to recall some basic moves and then apply those to his new body dimensions. There probably wouldn’t be anyone out there who could teach him to fight as a meihin, so he needed to figure this out on his own.

He spent the next couple of hours doing basic attack and block moves, over and over again. He tried some things that felt like they might also work but mostly he stuck to what he knew in order to not learn any bad habits from the start. Experimenting would come later.

Somehow the weapon seemed almost made for him. The length was perfect, the bleached leather grips were just at the right places along the pole of the weapon, and even the weight seemed to be geared towards his new, shorter but stronger meihin.

 _Weapon for a meihin—_ The idea felt impossible but it almost did feel like the weapon wasn’t made to be wielded by a dragon. But how? Who would even make such a weapon? And what was it doing at the Guard training field out of all places? As answers to any of those questions weren’t available, he shrugged the thoughts out of his mind. No use wasting time and energy for asking pointless things.

The shadows were getting longer but Orestes was strangely hesitant to end his practice session. He hadn’t had so much fun in a long time but the change from day to night shift was close and he should be out of the field by then. With a sigh he headed back to the weapon rack, spinning the trident slowly on his hand while walking, trying to get used to the feel of the object in his fingers. He was determined to get faster and better at it.

With a slight pang of sadness he set the trident back down to the rack. He wouldn’t dare take it with him as there was really no way to explain what he was doing with a weapon he shouldn’t even be able to use.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise,” he whispered while caressing the smooth surface of the trident. Somehow it felt like he could talk to it. Should talk to it.

He focused on himself again and made his meihin form shift back to full Tundra. He took one last look at the weapon before turning his back and heading towards the barracks and his living quarters. There was now a spring to his step that hadn’t been there before. He had a chance now. That bastard had thought he had ruined him with his curse but piece by piece he would get his own self back.


End file.
